On all fours, he climbed up and away from the rushing noise of the river, digging his feet into the green covered hillside. Clumps of vegetation acted like hand holds as he drove himself higher and higher until he crested the top, pulling himself over the edge.
The ground plateaued, and the route remained relatively unblocked. A small path lay in the middle of it, carving a line of packed black dirt through the sparse green. Following the direction of the stream, Spear took advantage of the flat ground.
Recalling what Three-One had told him, to follow the water, seemed to make sense only for now. It led away from the Master and his guards, but beyond that, he needed to find his own way. There was no possibility of going back. No killing the Master. No freeing the others.
Despite all of the horrible things that had happened, the memory persisted. The memory of the originals. The kind Masters. The ones who had called him David in his dream. The only dream he could remember. The gray organic material had amplified the dream into a vivid and lifelike thought. Maybe it was only an idea of random things put together. Maybe it was a memory like Three-One said. It didn’t matter. It was an itch now that needed to be scratched. It held some meaning and was a reason to move forward.
Otherwise, he might as well just lay down on the ground and let the green swallow him up forever.
Spear had hit a good stride and was even enjoying the midday sun. The path was easy to follow and well trodden. His brisk pace was putting more and more distance between him and the threat of the Master.
Slowly, as the path wound to the left around a rocky outcropping, he heard a clang of metal on metal. His steps slowed, and the noise occurred again. The sound echoed down the valley.
Spear stepped quietly, wondering if there was a guard ahead, and he looked around for a quick escape, deciding between the incline towards the top of the hill, or the steep drop to the water below.
The third strike of metal against metal produced a clatter as something landed on the ground.
Creeping around the corner, he pressed himself against the rock face and peered around the edge with his working eye.
In the middle of the path was creature he had never seen. Its two arms were rusted and pot marked with patches of metal. A blocky structure of the body extended to thick legs and ended it wide stable feet. Its thin head was bright yellow and swivel back and forth as it assessed the length metal it had just cut from a nearby rusted pipe. The pipe, which appeared to have been recently unburied by what looked like a rock slide, was more of a tunnel in shape and size. Its empty interior lay exposed by the rectangular slice.
Spear realized that the metal creature had cut it when the glowing attachment in its hand flared up and chopped the massive slab of curved metal in two again. The roaring noise and the sparks made Spear retract around the corner quickly out of shock.
Was it a unit? Was it like him?
Spear looked back around the corner. The noise had stopped. Had it seen him?
As he carefully peered around, he could hear rapidly diminishing clanging.
Was the unit running away?
Stepping out, Spear called out, “Wait! Stop!”
But the blocky unit lumbered away, turning to check over its shoulder. Spear couldn’t identify the look on the unit’s face, but the body language was surely fear.
Walking to the metal, Spear looked at the plate. The metal was corroded on the outside, rusted and flaking, but inside it was polished and bright. Peering into the dark abyss of the pipe, he looked into the man-sized tube. Nothing, but black emptiness.
What was the unit doing with the metal?
It was obviously important, but not important enough to risk its life over. Spear looked down. The square footprints had compressed the black gravel. It would be easy to follow.
Spear lifted the corner of the metal and estimated the weight. It was as thick as two of his fingers and as wide and as tall as he was. There was no way he could carry it, but dragging it was an option.
If he were able to follow the unit and give it the metal, perhaps it would work as a piece offering. He needed a friend, someone who knew the area. Someone who wouldn’t attack and kill him like the beasts would. The idea of a safe place to sleep seemed plausible.
Spear, satisfied with the plan, put his long wooden tool in the palm of his left hand and with his right began dragging the metal. It groaned and complained, but once it started moving it became easier to handle.
As he dragged the metal along the path, he considered the possibility of a group of units other than his own. If there was a family of them, just like his. Maybe they had a kind Master he could serve. Maybe he could get help to free his friends.
Chapter 14
Spear had dragged the peace offering of the salvaged metal plate for what felt like forever. The sun was starting to drop in the sky, and he considered just depositing it on the side of the trail and giving up on the idea that the unit would be open to even talking let alone letting him catch up.
“This had better be worth it,” he said, renewing his efforts. Driving his feet into the ground, he realized how dehydrated he was. The water from the river may have water logged him at the time, but he hadn’t purposely taken in water or nutrient for at least a day and a half.
The footprints turned left off of the trail and up the hill, into the trees. Spear looked up the hillside and could see thin tendrils of smoke poking out from between the trees. A lightly trodden path weaved its way upward between the trees.
“This is not fair,” he muttered, dropping the plate to the ground.
Looking around he again contemplated abandoning the metal and trying to find a place to hide for the night, but the idea that there might be fire, and some light to see any lurking beasts spurned him on.
Shaking his head at his foolishness, he lifted the end of the heavy prize and continued dragging it up the steep hill. Little by little, the weight increased with the incline.
His feet sank into the ground under the weight, and his joints groaned in objection with each step. He feared slipping and letting go, only to watch it slide to the bottom. He wondered if it would bounce off trees or if it would just only knock them flat.
Eventually, as the sky began to color oranges and purple, the ground leveled out, and the trees parted. A small clearing with a simple box sat opposite to the trails end. A large fire flickered in the middle of the clearing, but the unit was nowhere to be seen.
Satisfied that it was on flat enough ground, Spear dropped the metal with a clang. The noise resonated through the dark trees, and something in the gloom to Spear's right flinched with the sound. Turning towards the movement, he saw the unit who had run from him earlier that day. It charged at him out of the brush, swinging a hammer the size of Spear's body.
Spear jumped to the side, landed and rolled past the flames before standing. His attacker continued with the momentum of the weight of the swing and crashed into the trees clumsily. A leg planted firmly against a log, and its body weight flopped forward as it tripped and downwards.
Frustrated noised emanated from the machine as it struggled to right itself.
Spear stood there watching as the larger unit, burdened by the weight, flailed. Its upper body pulled over the timber by gravity, and its lower body unable to gain purchase. Calmly Spear walked next to the rusted unit and looked closely at it. The yellow head was swiveling back and forth scanning for something to grab. The slick log under it was the perfect smoothness to avoid any traction.
“My name is Spear,” he said.
The unit stopped flailing.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he continued.
The rusted unit swiveled its head to look at him.
“Do you speak? Can you talk,”
The head rotated back and forth and groaned twice.
“I’m going to help you up. Please don’t try and crush me,” Spear said, leaning his pointed stick against the wood. Tentatively he leaned in and tested to see if the unit would lie
and attempt to grab at him. The thick arms and three-fingered hands would have easily torn him to bits. Finding leverage, Spear pushed hard against the machine’s shoulders, sliding its bulk off of the log.
It rolled onto its rear, and then flopped backward with a clang. Its head shook side to side, and it lifted the leg it had planted before bending over the log. The knee was broken and flopped at a wrong angle.
“Oh no!” Spear said trying to step forward. The big hands pushed him back gently, and the machine rolled to crawl on all fours towards the shack. It leaned against the metal and lay stationary.
“What can I do to fix it? Will they recycle you? Will your Master be angry?”
The chest of the machine slowly popped and hissed, and the armor-like structure spread apart, “I have no Master, came a female voice. And I doubt that I would ever let someone like you touch this. Stupid tree burners.”
A thin unit sat up out of the armor, pulling her appendages from the arms and legs of the suit.
“Do you have any idea how long it will take me to fix this?” she asked.
Spear shook his head. Her face articulated emotion but was made of metal plates, interlocked. There was no hard surface. Her outer shell had been stripped away to the bare bones.
“What… you never saw a naked girl before?” she laughed at him.
“I… I don’t understand,” he said.
“Go away,” she said standing.
“I..”
“I said go away. You wrecked my suit,” she stated again, pointing to the dark trail.
The night had fallen, and the idea of leaving terrified Spear.
“No,” he said.
“What?” she put her hands on her tiny hips.
He wondered how her impossibly thin abdomen could support the upper body.
“I said no. You are the first unit other than my … my family that I have met.”
“Too bad. I don’t care. Get out before I beat you into scrap metal,” She turned, charging towards a nearby work bench, reaching for a piece of metal.
“I just need a place to sleep tonight. I don’t want to be out there in the dark. Please. I escaped, but I’ve only known the sleeping box…. There are things out there. Beasts.”
Her face dropped a little as she realized he was right.
“Please… I brought your metal all the way from where you cut it. I wanted to bring it to you as a sign of friendship.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“You're an idiot then,” she tossed the something back onto the bench.
“Just for the night. I will sleep right here. I won't cause any trouble.”
She touched the top of her head and turned, pacing.
“Fine! You touch any of my stuff. Any of my stuff, and I will break you and use your parts,” she wagged a finger at him.
“Thank you. Thanks so much,” Spear said smiling, watching her turn and walk away from the dark hut beyond.
Spear didn't even know her name. She seemed indifferent, cold towards him.
He lay down next to the warm fire. Things had not gone as expected, but he considered the fact that he was not dead, and despite her anger, was not likely to try and kill him.
Chapter 15
Spear felt gentle hands adjust his head, and he rolled making room, hoping that it was the Water Carrier nuzzling in, and recent events had all just been a bad dream.
“Get up!” A swift kick clattered against Spear’s ankle. The jarring motion woke him from his deep sleep.
“I said…” another kick to the legs, “… get up!”
“Why are you kicking me?” Spear pulled away avoiding a third strike, keeping his eyes on the female unit. He was beginning to wondering if he might have been better off sleeping somewhere hidden in the dark.
The morning sun was touching the tops of the trees, and burning off the low hanging clouds. He could see the trail he had come up the hill on, dragging the token piece of metal the entire way to show some kindness to this stranger who now seemed bent on abusing him.
“I don’t need this,” he said beginning to walk away, “I was trying to be friendly.”
“Oh no you don’t,” something rattled, and Spear was knocked off his feet, landing on his back. The pile of chain coiled beneath his head shifted as he tried to understand what had just happened.
His hands clawed at the chain around his neck; its rusty links were as thick as his fingers. Jumping to his feet, he stepped backward, and the length of chain clinked and clattered, snaking a trail as he moved.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting paid,” she said, shrugging, “What does it look like.”
“Paid?” he said as the length of chain straightened. He followed it, looking for its anchor. A massive block of steel next to the fire sat wrapped in the coil of metal.
She ignored him, bending down and inspecting the leg of the metal suit she had been wearing the previous night. Shaking her head, she walked into the shack out of sight.
“I haven’t done anything to you?” he growled, pulling at the links. There was no give. A lock hung behind his head and scraped against the metal of his body.
Coming back into view she looked at him out of the corner of her eye warily. He stepped forward, and confronted her following her to the supine suit, “Really, is this necessary? I won’t hurt you.”
“Oh… I know that ” she wagged a length of metal at him, “You’re a forest bot. You're dumb, lost and very expensive.”
“What?”
She smirked, “Your parts idiot; you are worth a lot in trade. Someone in the city will want you for parts. There’s a lot of older bots that would give their legs for that smooth, pretty face of yours.”
“I don’t want to be recycled,” he said quietly realizing the situation.
“Oh, don’t worry most of you will likely survive. The brain of yours is rare. Valuable. A complete blank slate.”
“I’m not a blank. I am alive. I know things!”
“I don’t care. The truth of the matter is that unless you can pay me, what I can get from your parts; this conversation is over.”
“What do you want?”
“Nothing you have,” she said, pulling another tool from a nearby box. Bright light arced, and she blinked, shaking her hand. It flopped loosely at her side.
Sighing she, walked back to the shed, flexing the joint, working movement back into it.
“You need to let me go. It’s important,”
“Look, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to have to disable your audio. And that module is pretty expensive, and is permanently grafted to your frame so unless you want to be mute for the last few months of your life, you better shut up.”
“Months?”
She tossed the piece of metal in her hand at him narrowly missing his head.
She pointed at him “Shut! Up!”
“Make me!”
She walked back to the chain and touched a set of wires to the rusted metal. He felt the arc of the current as it rolled across his body. His arms and legs crumpled dropping him to the dirt.
“You know what. Your’ starting to annoy me. It's just easier to disable that voice box of yours.”
She stepped over him, hefting a tool in her left hand as she pressed his weak head into the dirt, “Don’t move.”
He tried to struggle, but the feeling had not returned to his body, and his limbs flopped weakly.
“There it is,” she smiled.
He could see smoke and feel the heat as she shifted her body, pulling at the underside of his face. Her hands expertly cut away at his body.
“No! Please no!” he begged, “I won’t--” and the sound of his voice stopped. He tried to plead, but there was no sound no matter how hard he struggled to speak.
“There we go,” she rolled him flat, kneeling on his chest, and dangled a smoking circuit in front of his eyes, “I warned you. You know I did.” She smiled cruelly. Tapping him on the forehead with her cutti
ng tool.
Standing up she turned away from him and tossed the component into the coals of the nearby fire pit.
Spear tried to speak, but no noise came out. His lips moved, but there was no corresponding sound.
His limbs slowly regained control, and weak fingers felt the underside of his jaw. The soft skin had been undamaged, but the area near his throat was a rough hole, enough he could fit two fingers inside to the first knuckle.
Anger filled him. Even the Master would not have tortured him like this. The Master would have just killed him, and used his body for materials to make more slaves.
Forcing his legs to work, he curled them under his body, rolling to his side and pressed himself off of the ground. They shook with the effort, but he forced his numb body to move.
The link of chain clattered as he rose. His captor turned looking at him, “That was quick.”
Lunging, he tackled her to the ground, using his weight. They were similar in size, but she was a stripped down version, lighter and obviously much older.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, thrusting the cutter against his chest. Sparks arced, but he couldn’t feel the damage. He knew it would be painful later, but he took advantage of the electrocution and pressed down on her, driving his elbow into her eye. She flinched at the impact, and her cutting hand moved to cover her face.
Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed the cutter still in her hand and pulled hard on the trigger. Orange heat blazed as bright as the sun.
“No! No!” She cried as he pushed the cutter between her eyes.
She rolled her face away, leaving a streak of torn metal across her cheek. A knee came up, and struck Spear in the chest, rolling his weak body off, and releasing her. His hand pulled at the cutter, and she tugged back. Activating it again, her face now blinded displayed fear and shock, releasing it to his grasp.
Standing she ran a few steps before tripping over the piece of metal spear had so naively carried up for her. His kindness had been repaid in cruelty and enslavement.
Spear's Journey Page 6